Secrets

“You’re sure about this place?” I asked into the mouth piece of the black phone I had pressed between my ear and shoulder in the cramped phone booth outside of the truck stop on highway fifty, roughly forty miles west from Gray Summit, Missouri. I scrawled out a quick address on the back of a receipt I had in my pocket from a gas station where I had bought a Code Red Mountain Dew and a bag of nacho Doritos. “Thanks man, I owe you one,” I said hanging up the phone hearing the quarter that I had previously inserted into the slot clatter onto the mountain of deposited change that lie hidden in the black box. I pulled open the folding glass door as I stepped out onto the asphalt top of the stop. The flickering lights above the pumps illuminating the black leather jacket that I had pulled over my shoulders covering the black t-shirt with the faded logo of AC/DC on the front and tattoo around my right forearm that stated ‘Semper Fi’ in old English letters. Blue jeans hung loose around my legs leading to a pair of heavy combat boots laced up tight to my feet. My hand idly rises to move the pair of dog tags together that hung from my neck with a quiet rasp of thin metal grinding against one another.

I headed to the small brown Buick that I had bought for cheap and fixed up to be my main source of transportation. Looking up to a trucker that was walking passed me to the diner that cast a red glow on the hood and windshield of my car from the neon sign above the front of the small building giving out an irritating buzzing noise. “Happy Thanksgiving,” the trucker said waving to me with a flannel jacket covered arm. I waved back; but, I didn’t return the greeting. My mind was on more prevalent things. I looked at the address that I had been given and pulled out the map I had purchased in the diner moments before making my phone call. I set the map into the passenger seat to keep in reach as I shoved the key into the ignition turning it making the car rumble to life before putting it into drive and getting on the highway again.

I let out a small growl as I felt the right pocket of my jacket vibrating and buzzing. I pulled out an old style cell phone that didn’t allow me to do much more than make a couple calls in the rare event that I actually had enough bars to make a call. Looking at the name on the small lit up screen I sighed contemplating if I should answer it or not. My thumb pressed down on the red button on the right side of the phone and held it down giving me that five note chime of it being shut off then tossing it into the seat. It was going to be another half-an-hour drive before I got to where I was going with a broken radio, so the silence and the empty road left my mind free to think about the past few years.

The bright eyes of the on-coming traffic were putting me into a slight trance with the repetition of the headlights that would speed by with a hum and rumble before disappearing into the darkness reflected in my rear-view mirror. I had rolled down my window to let the autumn air flow freely in the car since my air conditioning didn’t work either. The smell of fresh air filled my lungs with every deep breath and dancing wind played with my short hair. The mist began to slowly settle around my little car with haunting whispers like a strange dream that held onto the edges of your memory after waking.

Prom night almost four years ago I was dressed up in a pair of black slacks with a white collared shirt and a red plaid tie my father had given me for the night that felt like it was an anaconda slowly choking the life out of me. I was driving my old hot rod that I had built myself from the tires up and we drove with the windows down. It took me an entire summer of mowing lawns and cleaning gutters to transform the rust covered frame that my father brought me on my eighteenth birthday, into the bright blue hot rod that it was now. In the passenger seat bobbing her head and swaying gently to the music, which she had turned up so that the bass could shake the windows of the houses we drove by, was my high school sweetheart and prom date dressed in a lime green dress that was a little short to show off her fake tanned legs and covered in small plastic disks so that every movement would be a cascade of dancing lights. Putting pressure on the brake, we came to a stop in front of a small house with light tan stucco walls and a tiled roof.

From the front door came my best friend and my biggest crush since elementary, Rachel. She looked just like an angel in that silver dress like pure moonlight. She was never one to wear much make-up, and I liked that about her, she didn’t hide behind blushes and lipstick that all the girls would put on to pretty themselves up. Around her shoulders and arms draped a silvery shawl so that her shoulders wouldn’t get cold. Her brown hair pulled up into a bun with strands falling from the top in sparkling, twirling cascades.

Closing the door behind her was her prom date, the recent quarter back for the school’s football team, Alex. Rumor was that he had a full ride scholarship to the University of Missouri to play on their legendary college team; but, the truth was anyone's guess. I didn’t find it much of a surprise that he was wearing jeans and a wrinkled polo, like he did for every game day; but, he at least seemed to be trying to be a gentleman with her. “Chinese fire drill!” I said jokingly out of the window since my date and I had to get out in order for Rachel and Alex to get into the back seat.

With everyone buckled in, I revved the engine twice before doing a small burn out filling the car with the smell of burnt rubber and smoke. Through the choked laughs and giggles we headed to the prom where we danced the night away. It seemed that everyone was enjoying themselves; until, on my way from retrieving a couple plastic glasses of punch from the table on the farthest side of the gymnasium, I saw Rachel sitting by herself at one of the paper covered tables with a depressed look on her face. I remember weaving through the crowd of dancers making every attempt to keep from spilling the drinks in my hands before I reached her. “Hey Rachel,” I said looking around. “What’s wrong? Where’s Alex?”

“He left,” she said, her voice on the verge of breaking. “It’s my fault. He didn’t want to come anyway; but, I begged him and made him anyway. You go on and have fun with your date.”

I gave her an empathetic look as I set the punch–filled glasses on the table beside her. “I don’t think so. I haven’t seen you on the dance floor at all tonight. May I?” I asked holding out my hand to her with a small smile on my face. Her eyes got a little wide in surprise at my forwardness, but she slowly nodded and placed her hand hesitantly into mine. A slow song came over the speakers and I led her to the middle of the floor where she put her arms around my neck and my hands rested on her waist gently swaying back and forth in time to the music. She smiled for the first time since we had arrived at the prom and I looked deep into her bright green eyes. “Hey, Rachel,” I started feeling my mouth go dry. “Do you… think that we might become more than just friends?”

Even in the darkened gymnasium I saw her cheeks flush in embarrassment as she looked away. We stopped dead in the middle of the crowd like two statues forever still in a sea of moving bodies. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship. I like us just like we are right now.”

I snapped back to the present hearing the horn of the driver behind me for not moving when the light had turned from red to green. I, quickly, put pressure on the gas making the old car sputter forward through the intersection just before the light turned yellow. Despite how kind and gentle she had been with her rejection it still hurt like hell. Even now it stung a little as I headed down the two lane road that cut through the small town that I was passing through. My hands held the steering wheel to the point that my hands were white as I continued to contemplate my place in all of this. She did reject me way back then. Maybe I should just stay out of this, I thought to myself as I looked up. The lights of the small town basked the building in a dull glow with the silence of the late night filling the streets.

Near the end of the town there stood a giant building with the glowing white letters of Wal-Mart on it. The lights in the parking lot were faded and old and some didn’t work anymore, just the kind of place that you would expect to get mugged in. The nearly abandoned lot was spotted with a few cars of the late night employees and a single white car near the front. A young woman held two paper bags filled to bursting in each arm as she fumbled with her keys in one hand trying to find the keyhole to the trunk. From the top of one of her bags dropped a jar that struck the ground hard and slowly began to roll away from the overwhelmed woman. Remembering a time almost three years ago when something similar had happened as I finally passed that city limit sign that said ‘You are now leaving Villa Ridge. Thanks for visiting.’

It was in front of a local grocery store, one of those mom and pop places that are run by the family long after the founders have died. I knelt down to retrieve a dropped jar of peanut butter with a bright red band around the middle of it and I tapped the woman on the shoulder that had dropped it with a kind smile. Much to my surprise I recognized the face. “Rachel?” I asked not really believing that it was her. “Wow, it's been a while.” We hadn’t seen each other since the night, nearly six months prior, that I had drove her home because her car had broken down in a parking lot while it was raining heavily, and there wasn’t anyone that could come fix it until the next day. She invited me in and she had an emotional break down when I asked how her and Alex were doing. She told me how things between her and Alex were tense right then and she didn’t know what to do. I stayed to console her and things escalated fast. It started off with nothing, just an arm around her as she cried against my chest, then I was petting her gorgeous long brown hair, and then we were embracing and kissing deeply. I still don’t remember how I ended up in bed with her and I didn’t care. At the time, there was only the emotions and passion that we shared. I thought that something had changed and I would finally get to be with the girl of my dreams. But, it wasn’t long after that night Alex proposed to Rachel.

She said yes.

I got on the first bus to boot camp.

“Oh my god,” Rachel said smiling as her hand traveled to her hair to try to place the tangle of strands into somewhat of a nice looking manner. “How are you?” she asked taking the jar of peanut butter in her delicate hands, her dainty fingers brushing the back of my hand as she lifted away the plastic jar.

“I'm doing alright,” I responded as I looked at her. Something was different about her. The glow that once shone brightly from her smiling face had faded like time fades polished brass. Her hair was a mess, not like the stylized masterpiece she normally turned it into and the bags under her eyes showed many sleepless nights spent alone. A hand rested on her rounded stomach in the long gray dress that she wore. “I heard that you got married a few months ago, and it looks like you're getting ready to have a baby too. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” she said not really looking me in the eye. “I heard that you joined the Army, or something, after high school.”

“Marines; but, yeah I did.” I didn’t know why it was so weird talking to her again. I had joined the Marines, and we lost touch. I knew that she and Alex got married, even though he was thrown out of a full ride scholarship to the University of Missouri for drinking, and was now living off of the money from the one job that Rachel had, leaving little to no money for the doctor visits and vitamins that she needed for the baby.

She looked to the car motioning toward it with the smallest of smiles. The same kind of smile that cashiers would give you when they really hate their job but can’t find another one and need the money. So they keep working for the sake of working. “I kinda need to get back and start on dinner. It was really good to see you again.” She moved to the door of the small run down car, the fake smile vanishing like a wisp of smoke in the breeze.

“Yeah, it was nice seeing you too,” I said in a sort of disappointed sigh and sad gaze that watched her walk away. I hadn’t seen her in half a year and she was so different. We used to be able to talk about everything and now she seemed to be keeping something quiet that she wanted to talk about. She pulled out of the space and gave me a small wave making the sleeve of her maternity style dress slide up from her wrist toward her elbow and show the hint of a cut on the underside of her forearm. I had stood there in the parking lot a little while longer watching her tail light disappeared down the road.

Right there, I should have seen what was going on with her, I thought berating myself as I passed the city limit sign for Labadie. My heart jumped up into my throat as the dim headlights on the front of my car illuminated the hunched form of a homeless man pushing a shopping cart of belongings across the road. I slammed both feet on the breaks, the tires letting out a terrible squeal and the smell of burned rubber swerving back and forth to slow down. Stopping short only a foot away I dropped my head to the steering wheel. I was pretty sure that the guy was staring at me like I was the crazy guy that speeds through town at the early hours of the morning with the hard stop that I had made. “Hey man, you alright?” the homeless man asked me walking to my window. I glanced up to him and nodded sitting back. The homeless man wore an assortment of mismatched clothes from the mud covered pants to the sweat-stained white t-shirt and two button up shirts draped over by the old jacket with a hole in the right sleeve. The cap on his head looked like the one of those flannel hats that you see a Canadian character on a TV comedy show wear.

“Sorry about that,” I said panting feeling my heart beating against my ribs like it were trying to break free from my chest. I reached back pulling out the neoprene wallet from my back pocket. The Velcro gave out a loud ripping sound as I opened it up and pulled out a couple of ten dollar bills holding them out to the man who took them in his dirty glove covered hands before shoving the bills into his grimy coat pocket.

“Thanks man,” he said in slurred speech. “Hey, that’s a nice jacket man. Where'd you get it?”

I looked to the worn leather sleeve that covered my left arm before returning my gaze to the man’s bearded face. “A very good friend gave it to me,” I said as the man waved and pushed his cart out of the way letting me continue on my way. I gave the man a small wave when I passed him and drove down the dark town road. The small stores and houses that lined the street were dark and the few street lights did little to help show where the road curved and bent. Scratching the back of my neck I got a full view of the worn cuff of my leather jacket. The inner fabric of the coat was flattened and didn't really keep me warm when it started to get really cold and the lining of the right pocket had a hole in it so I had to keep from putting things on my right side or they would literally be eaten by my jacket. I smiled remembering when the stitched leather that shielded me from the bite of the chilly morning air was brand new out of the box.

I had walked up to the door with the dull brass number that distinguished it from the multitude of other tan doors that lined the entire side of the two story apartment building that Rachel now lived at with Alex and her son. The sound of laughing parents came from the others side of the door that I approached, still dressed in my digital camouflage uniform and laced up boots from getting off the bus a few hours ago. I had been invited to a first year birthday party for Rachel and Alex’s son and I really didn’t know what to get him. My hand rose and pressed the door bell which released those two sad notes from the small speaker just on the other side of the cheap walls. The door slowly opened to a woman, with glittery blonde hair that held two spiraling strands that ran passed her cheeks to frame her face and some kind of green designer shirt on, who looked me up and down with a questioning complexion. “Hey, I hope I have the right place. Is this where the Birthday for Rachel and Alex’s baby is?” I asked holding up the hastily wrapped gift. It was a set of those multicolored plastic rings and peg stand that you always see newborns with. I had seen it in a store on my way over to the apartment and stopped to grab it, then I just bought a newspaper and some tape to wrap it up in my lap on the way over. It wasn’t professional, heck it wasn’t even nice, but it did the job.

“Yeah! You must be Rachel’s army friend,” she said in a bubbly voice before hopping back making those blonde spirals bounce up and down, her perfectly straight white teeth smacking a piece of gum as she spoke. The motion was so sudden and unnatural that I didn’t correct her and tell her that I was a Marine. “You better hurry. They're getting ready to bring out the cake.” I stepped into the cramped apartment and the first thing that I notice was the overwhelming stench of cigarettes and booze, the air was so thick with the smell that I felt nauseous. The living room that I had walked into was dominated by a couch that took up one wall and half the space. The rest of the area was taken up by an old TV that was about two feet away from the couch leaving a small alley between the two. Sitting on the couch his head back, eyes closed, and snoring like a chainsaw was Alex. He looked like he hadn’t gotten up off of the couch in weeks with the bottle of alcohol in one hand and the remote in the other. For Alex to still be sleeping with all the noise of the happy birthday guests I guessed that he had drunk himself into unconsciousness.

A few more steps over the ash crusted carpet, which gave way to linoleum, I came to the dining room, a small crowd of people gathered around a smiling baby boy that was laughing and clapping his hands together in a highchair and bib that said, ‘Baby-saurus.’ A smile touched my lips when I saw him. He had his mother’s eyes and a smile that just brightened a room. I set the gift I brought on the gift table, where it looked out of place with the other gift wrapped toys, as the crowd started in on the familiar chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ with a dimming of the lights. Rachel walked in from the tiny kitchen with a chocolate cupcake on a saucer plate and a single lit, spiraling, multicolored candle burning out the top casting a glow on her smiling face. When the song ended Rachel blew out the candle for the little birthday boy.

The small smile that had once spread over my face all at once vanished like the shadows in the room when the lights returned and I saw Rachel. Her once beautiful hair was bland and tangled having lost that wonderful luster that it once held. Her pale visage was tired and worn, her cheeks slightly hollowed and her eyes darkened as she smiled at her son that started to laugh enthusiastically when he crushed the cupcake in his small hands and proceeded to spread it all over his face in his attempt at eating. Rachel moved passed the close gathering of people and cameras that let out a click with every picture that was taken. "I'm glad that you came," Rachel said walking up and hugging me like we always used to. She felt so weak and frail that I was afraid that if I hugged her too tight that she would shatter in my hands. "How long are you back?"

"Just for the week," I responded letting her go and looking to the little boy. "I can see that he's growing up healthy."

"Yes. Adrian is a very good baby." she said gently. "Thank you for the gift you brought. Money is tight, and I wasn't able to get any toys or many clothes for him."

I bet money is tight with him buying booze every chance he can, I thought to myself when I noticed the recycling so full of beer cans and liquor bottles that the excess were placed on the floor around the plastic tub. “How are you doing?” I asked looking her up and down. She looked sick, even malnourished, especially in that pair of black lounge pants and white spaghetti-strap top.

“I’m… alright,” she said with that small smile that just screamed, There is more that I want to tell you, but I can’t. I didn’t push the issue. If she didn’t want help with whatever was really bothering her then that was her decision. No matter how much I may want to help.

Adrian ripped apart the wrapping paper that covered the small pile of presents that he was given, with the help of his mother; and, just like most babies, he was more interested in playing with the paper than with the toy itself. One by one the guests left until there was only the four of us: Rachel, Adrian, the still unconscious Alex, and me. Adrian sat in his mother’s lap supported by her hands around his middle as he waved one of the plastic rings about in the air before wrapping his gummy mouth around bright red halo. Rachel and I just talked for a long while catching up on life; but, the one thing that shone in her eyes that she wanted to talk about the most remained unsaid. “You've been gone for a long while,” she said giving me a sad look. “Wait here. I have something for you since you weren’t here for your birthday.” She placed Adrian in my lap and I held him on my knee bouncing him gently. He smiled at me still holding that red ring in both his hands and his mouth. Rachel came back quickly with a large, flat, white box and handed it to me and taking her son back. “Happy late birthday.” She smiled with a shrug. I pulled the lid off of the box and pulled out the contents of it. A black leather jacket with thin strips of the black leather running from the shoulder to the end of the sleeve along the seam had filled the thin cardboard. I held it up in the air in shock before I looked to her to protest her buying it for me. “I had pulled aside a little money every check for myself. Something that Alex doesn’t know about.” I smiled taking off the digital camouflage jacket and pulled the leather jacket over my shoulders. It fit me perfectly like it had been handmade just for me. The gray lining was warm, but not so much that I was burning up inside.

“Thanks, Rachel. It’s perfect,” I said to her. She smiled and got a bottle for Adrian, who was fussing in Rachel’s lap in complaint for food. She lifted Adrian into her arm and held the bottle for him to begin drinking with the quiet suckling noise drifting toward me. “I always did see you as the mother type.” She smiled at me while Adrian happily ate his dinner. There was a quiet moment between the two of us before I left.

She was telling you that she needed help. Right then she was begging for you to help her, I said to myself, my focus on the road once more. An orange light on my dash board flared up to signal that I was low on gas. I pulled off the road into a Shell gas station with lights that lit up the pumps where I pulled up next to. Stepping out of the car into the cool autumn air I pulled out that neoprene wallet to retrieve my debit card and swipe it in the machine with a musical chime. Removing the cap to the tank and shoving the nozzle into the flapped opening I squeezed the lever and flipped open the stand so that I could rest against the side of my car while it filled up. My arms crossed over my chest as I stared off into the dark station building with advertisements for different brands of beer and cigarettes. The neon ‘open’ sign now dead and lifeless in the window surrounded by wreathing streams, tinsel, and hanging ornaments of different sizes and colors that reflected the overhead lights and my car. The fake snowflakes plastered onto the windows of the building made things just a little more festive even though Thanksgiving hadn’t even passed yet. The ‘thunk’ of the nozzle resting in the gas tank brought my attention away from the ornaments and decorations to the small, dim orange screen that displayed the amount of money I was being charged and the gallons that I had put into the gas tank of my car. I pressed on the latch a few more times rounding out the numbers on the pump to be an even dollar amount and set the pump back in its holster. I looked up and down the road that ran alongside the gas station as I turned the cap to the tank on until it clicked to state it was closed. The empty road almost seemed like it was waiting in silence at what I would do next. You can still turn around and leave it alone, a voice inside me said. “Shut up,” I muttered to myself through clenched teeth as the door opened with a small squeak sitting inside and pushing the key into the ignition once more. I paused to look up to the Christmas decorations in the darkened window feeling the memory that held strongest in my mind come forward. Twisting the key to start the car I took off down the road starting to push my foot more on the gas peddle making the engine rumble louder and the car rattle and shake, and just like the events of that night a year ago, my blood boils in rage from the repeat of those events that occurred only hours before my call at the truck stop.

“Glad you and Alex could make it, Rachel,” my mother said closing the door behind the trio. I looked up to see Rachel and put on that same smile that I had at Adrian’s birthday. Adrian looked as happy and healthy as ever, Alex looked about the same not even putting on a collared shirt for a Christmas dinner, or shaving, and a small bottle of whiskey in his hand that he would occasionally take a mouthful from, but Rachel was the one that really had my eye. She was pale, and it looked like her hair was starting to fall out. Her eyes looked about in a fatigued gaze with her thin lips turned up in an almost painful smile. It was like something was draining the life out of her every time that I saw her.

The way that she looked at me, even then, screamed that she wanted to tell me something important; but, she felt that she shouldn’t, or couldn’t, tell me. “Hey, Rachel,” I said in a gentle voice giving her a hug, “Merry Christmas, and merry Christmas to you too, Adrian.” Adrian took a strong hold on my index finger and smiled when I wiggled it about in his hand. Turning to the slightly inebriated Alex, I gave a quizzical look to the glass bottle in his hand. “You sure you should drink that right before dinner?”

“Wouldn’t be any different than back home,” Alex said with a slight slur and another gulp of liquor.

“Well, just take it easy on that stuff here, alright?”

“Yesh sir, soldier boy.” Alex stumbled forward a little before making it to the table and planting himself in a chair setting that glass bottle on the cloth covered table in front of him on the enclosed patio, where we had Christmas dinner every year since I could remember.

I shook my head before looking to Rachel again, unable to hide my concern from her. “Hey, you okay?” I asked touching her arm.

She flinched away from me as if my touch had burned, like when you place your hand on a stove or hot pan and quickly jerk away. She let that small fake smile spread across her thin lips once again and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just tired, that’s all,” she said in a voice that was so quiet that my ears strained to hear anything that she said even in the quiet room. Her eyes would flicker between Alex and me as we talked. “A… Adrian is a handful sometimes.” She raised her hand returning a strand of her once luscious and beautiful hair behind her ear.

“Yeah… I bet he is,” I said. It was a lie. It was only a partial lie, but still a lie. It was very possible that Adrian was a handful, especially when it seemed that she was the only one raising him, but there was something else that had her tired and so wore out.

“I see that you're still wearing that jacket,” Rachel said patting my leather covered arm with just the smallest hint of happiness in her eyes. I nodded as we stood there a moment just looking into each others eyes, mine begging her to tell me what was wrong and hers wanting nothing more than to tell me; but, no words were said, and we headed out onto the patio at my Mom’s call that dinner was ready.

She sat at the table beside her husband with a fussy Adrian in her lap. Saying a small prayer we all dug into the food that lined the center of the table. My Dad carved up the turkey as mashed potatoes, gravy, green bean casserole, and stuffing was passed around the table for everyone to get a little. I sat across from Rachel and her child as everyone, except for Alex, talked and chatted about our lives and what was new about us.

My Dad was his usual goofy self, doing his best to make everyone laugh and did pretty well with it. His stories and imitations of people that I had heard every year since I was a kid still made me laugh like I had heard it for the first time. Rachel covered her mouth she was laughing so hard and shook her head before a fateful elbow knocked the glass bottle of whiskey over and poured a small amount of the amber liquid out of the bottle and onto the hardwood floor. Rachel gasped, and a panicked look covered her paling face as she started apologizing over and over again, more to Alex than to my Mom. We all said that it was no big deal as Rachel stood up handing Adrian to my Mother as she ran off toward the kitchen to get a towel and was soon followed by Alex, who had a pissed off look on his face.

They disappeared into the house and down the small hall to the kitchen and I got a bad feeling. That same feeling you get deep down in your gut when you are walking down a dark alley late at night and you can feel that someone is just waiting to jump from the shadows and mug you, it was that feeling. I excused myself quickly and walked after the pair. I could barely make out their hushed voices as I neared the entry to the kitchen. “I'm sorry, Alex,” I heard Rachel said in a hushed, fear-filled voice. “It was an accident.”

“It’s always an accident with you,” Alex growled through his teeth. “Always you saying sorry and never getting better. It’s like you enjoy pissing me off.”

“I don’t. I don’t. Please, I'm sorry.”

It was about that time that I came around the corner and was about to tell Alex to cool off; but, my words were stolen from my mouth at the very sharp sound of the back of Alex’s hand striking Rachel’s face, throwing her to the ground, and making a small cut on her cheek. The sound of that slap echoed inside of me and something deep within me snapped. Everything made sense, and it was like I was watching the previous three years in fast-forward. The sudden acceptance of marriage, the hidden cut on her arm, the quiet demeanor at the birthday party, and the subtle distraught change in her looks and actions were all her reactions to Alex’s anger issues. Alex turned to me and spoke in that punk manner that just made my already enraged state turn into pure wrath. “What do you want? I'm trying to have a private conversation with my wife.” His hand rose to shoo me off.

“How long have you been hitting her?” I growled. My teeth ground together as I stepped forward onto the linoleum crossing the distance with my vision focusing completely on Alex.

“As much as she has deserved not that it's any of your busi…” My hand grabbed around his throat to cut him off before he could finish his sentence and shoved him up against the refrigerator. His hands clawed at my forearm protected by the leather jacket that Rachel had given me a little over a year ago.

“You hit her, I break you.” I pulled him forward, slammed him against the giant fridge, and let him slump to the floor where he coughed and stared up at me with a hate-filled look in his eyes. “Rachel, go outside with my parents and call an ambulance.” I slowly pulled my jacket off and held it out to her as she stood up and hurried out of the kitchen. I rolled up the sleeves of my long sleeve collared shirt showing my rather well built forearms and the ‘Semper Fi’ tattoo wrapped around my right arm.

Alex got up on his feet putting up his clenched fists. “You think that just because you have had a crush on her since high school that you can do whatever the hell you want?! She is ‘my’ wife! I will do what I want when she screws up! Go get your own girl!”

He came at me in that drunken state throwing a right hook at my head. My military training just kicked in and his fist was deflected just to the left of my head and my right fist lashed out breaking Alex’s nose with a spurt of blood from his nostrils. Yelling in pain he stumbled back holding his bleeding nose with both hands and dripping blood all over the linoleum. “She is my best friend you arrogant ass! I'm gonna tear your damn head off!” I roared as he rushed at me, his hands falling away to show his flattened nose that was drooling snot and blood. He wrapped his arms around my waist and his shoulder hit me in the gut in his attempt to tackle me before I got my footing and sent three knees into his stomach and tossed him against the counter. The whiskey in his system dulled him to the pain that I was putting him in and at the time I thought, Good. That means I can beat the hell out of him more. In fact, the alcohol was probably the only thing that kept getting him to his feet. He ran at me his mouth, chin, and the collar of his shirt were covered in blood as he swung wildly like an animal. Weaving back and forth I dodged punch after punch and jabbed over and over at different times hitting that broken nose over and over again making his head rock back with the force of my punches.

Rolling away from another flurry of punches I kicked Alex in the gut. When he hit the wall I was on him and started to deliver a barrage of blows to his ribs feeling the bones bend and crack under the assault. Everything was moving so slow for me as I hit over and over again. I felt one of those ribs finally break and Alex screamed holding his side as I stepped away from him taunting him to come at me again.

He screamed in an alcohol-filled rage before throwing another right hook, which I ducked under, and I kicked out his right leg making him lean back in keeping balanced before I drove my elbow into his sternum feeling another one of those cracked ribs threaten to snap from the force. He hit the ground hard enough that the air in his lungs rushed out of him. Rolling, while holding his side, he used the counter to slowly get to his wobbling feet and swing weakly. I had no mercy in me. No sympathy for this piece of trash that stood in front of me. I grabbed his arm and pulled leading his body to bend over and crack his head against the tiled counter. My leg wrapped around and braced against his neck and with a quick pull on his arm and pushed with my leg. His shoulder strained and groaned before it popped and his arm went limp and I moved away from him.

Alex stood up panting and supporting himself against the counter with his only good arm moving away from me as the other arm hung there lifeless. His facial expression had changed now that the alcohol had worn off, and he was realizing the position that he was in. He was scared now, just like Rachel had been scared, and his right eye was red from a busted blood vessel. Alex got to a corner while I slowly moved in on him letting the fear that was in his eyes consume him. He turned and grabbed a knife from the wooden block that all of my Mom’s knives were and came at me slashing like a mad man, cutting my shirt before I grabbed his arm, twisted his wrist so that he dropped the knife, and kicked it away.

I was too far gone to stop now. I grabbed Alex’s shirt, and I hit him in the face against his already broken nose, drew back, and hit him again. I hammered on him over and over again and even felt when his jaw cracked, his face covered with splits in his skin, and his left eye swelled shut. The pain that he felt finally overcame the alcohol in his system and he passed out. I let him drop to the floor his broken body bleeding out as I panted catching my breath. I looked at my hands that were covered in streaks of Alex’s blood and I slowly turned around feeling my hand hurt. I had broken a knuckle. I busted it after the first few punches, but I didn’t let it stop me. My Dad was standing there in the doorway of the kitchen, staring wide-eyed at Alex’s crumpled body on the kitchen floor. “I came to see why you needed an ambulance,” my Dad said in shock.

“I think we can drive,” I said holding up my hand. “It’s just a busted knuckle.”

We all took my parent’s van, which they had had since my childhood, to the hospital. I was seen almost immediately and they wheeled Alex in after me. When the nurse asked what happened we just told them that he fell down some stairs. Of course, the nurses behind the counter gave us that look that they didn’t believe us, but they put it into the computer anyways. They reset my knuckle and put a cast around my wrist and half my forearm. I sat on the bed in the hospital chuckling as I imagined how I was going to tell my commander why I was coming back with a cast on my hand. The nurse came in and gave me some information on how to clean and take care of my hand while I had the cast and let me go. When the nurse left Rachel came into the room, her face was apologetic and frightened. “Why did you do that? You hurt yourself,” she said looking at my hand. “He only slapped me. It’s nothing out of to ordinary.”

“Not out of the ordinary?” I said slightly pissed. “Rachel, it isn’t normal for a man to beat his wife. It's wrong for him to even think about it. You're stronger than this. Where's the girl that used to laugh at the cheerleaders when they tried to make fun of her? Where's the girl that was alive and loving life? Where's the girl that I…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. She had rejected my feelings years ago, she was married, and I wasn’t supposed to feel that way about her.

Her eyes turned away in shame. The cut on her cheek was covered by a bandage to let it heal. “I'm sorry,” she mumbled. I sighed pulling her into a hug.

“He doesn’t have the right to hit you. Stand up for yourself. Is this the example you want to set for your son? Do you want him to be like his father?” I asked not expecting an answer. I let her go with a sigh and headed to the door.

I froze in place hearing what she had to say next. “Yes. I do want him to be like his father. Just like his father,” she said looking at my back. I whirled around ready to yell at her for being stupid before she quickly finished. “You’re his father. Adrian is your son. I want him to be just like you.” She stared at me with tears brimming in her eyes. “That one night… I got pregnant. I didn’t know until after I was married to Alex.”

“How do you know?” I asked in shock.

“Alex hasn’t ever touched me, he prefers the women that he sleeps around with, and I did a blood test. You're the only person that it could be. It's one of the reasons that he hits me. He hates that you and I have the relationship that we do.” I looked down in shock. I had no idea that Adrian was my son. I didn’t know that she was holding this secret from me. I turned around getting ready to walk out. “I know that I should have told you; but, I didn’t want you to feel responsible.”

“I’m not angry with you, Rachel,” I said calmly, still trying to get over it. “I just… I need some time. You should've told me.” I looked over my shoulder at her with a caring gaze. “I would've fought for you harder if I'd known.” She looked at me and the realization of my feelings hit her when I left. I walked down the hallway with every intention of leaving the hospital and going back to my barracks.

Something stopped me. A nagging feeling deep in my chest made me suddenly veer in the hallway to head down another. I stopped at the desk and asked the guy behind the counter, “Where is Alex Rodman? I'm here to check on him.” He typed on his computer getting the room number and pointing me in the direction that I needed to go. Stopping at the wooden door, I took a deep breath before walking in. There Alex lay, his right arm in a sling, his torso, wrapped up so tight that he had to breathe shallowly and with a small wheeze, gauze ran across his face to bandage his busted nose, his left eye was still swollen shut and black, and a harness around his head for the jaw that, without a doubt, I had cracked, if not broke. Walking over to the side of Alex’s bed he made a visible flinch as I loomed over him. “Hey Alex, how you doing buddy?” I asked in a seething voice. “Look, I know I beat you to hell and back for slapping Rachel; but, I feel that I should just make something clear with you.” I paused a moment to ensure that he was giving me his full attention. “If I ever find out that you've started hitting her again, I promise you that what I did tonight will seem like a day at the beach in Hawaii. Do we have an understanding?” I reached up grabbing his broken nose giving it a hard squeeze making his eyes cross and pained cry come from his throat before I let go and headed to the door. “Oh, and if you think I'm joking…Go ahead and test me.” I slammed the door behind me when I left and I returned to the military. I started pulling aside some money and sending it to Rachel in secret to help support her and Adrian and their lives got better. We had started sending letters back and forth so that I would know what was going on with Adrian and Alex; and for the most part, I was happy with the improvements that Alex had made.

The sign for my destination came into view and I double checked the address that I had written on the receipt just to make sure as I pulled into a space in front of the Garden Way Motel putting the car into park under the red neon sign that read ‘Vacancy.’ Getting out of the car I walked into the office making the small bell above the door ring when the metal frame struck it. From the back walked a man that was relatively good sized and dressed in a loose t-shirt. “How can I help you, sir?” he asked in a gruff voice. “Need a room?”

“Actually, I'm looking for someone,” I said leaning on the counter a little. “A man about five foot six, blonde hair, and very nervous. He would have checked in a few hours ago.”

The man looked me up and down with a calculating eye. “Why you want to find this guy?”

“His wife is a good friend of mine and he beats her.” I looked him dead in the eye with how forward I was with him. Even if I was good at lying, which I’m not, he would have known.

“He did seem a little too jumpy to be on the up and up. You ain’t a cop though. Army?”

“Marine.”

“Ah, that explains the tags. Well, technically I'm not supposed to tell you that I have seen a guy with the description that you gave me, and technically I'm not supposed to tell you that he's in room four ‘C’. So, I'm not really sure how I can help you.” The man smiled as he waved turning away toward the door that he came from his right shoulder now showing the air force tattoo. “Fly, Fight, Win,” he said just barely loud enough for me to hear over the television that he had set up on his desk. I looked down and saw that without me knowing he had ‘accidentally’ left a key on the counter, the small plastic disk reading “4C” in white block letters.

“Semper Fi,” I responded with a grin picking up the key from the counter and left the air conditioned office heading for the door that my fellow military comrade ‘didn’t’ give me with the patron that he ‘didn’t’ see. One by one the red doors passed me. Every step brought me nearer to my target like a heat seeking missile. The closer I got the more adrenaline pumped through my veins until I stood in front of the door that I was seeking. The brass number shone like a beacon which I had honed in on. Sliding the key into the lock and giving it a turn the door popped open and rested on the door jamb.

I slowly opened the door, the hinges giving out a long drawn out squeal, letting the light from the street flood into the room. The beige carpet was stamped down from years of shoes treading over them and the walls were covered in striped wallpaper that was supposed to give it a modern look. The two queen size beds had a floral pattern comforter on them that I could imagine seeing in my grandmother’s house. Sitting on the furthest bed his entire body shaking was the man that I had been looking for. He stared at me with wide frightened eyes that were so white that they almost didn’t have any pupils. The shadow that I cast from the light behind me into the room fell over him like a cloak of fear that surrounded him making his face go pale. “Hey Alex,” I said in a voice so deep that, even to me, it sounded almost abyssal. “It’s been a while. I’m here to keep that promise.”

I slowly moved forward taking my time and letting the door free to close slowly on its hydraulic arm. Alex fell to his knees in front of me and started to beg, his eyes streaming with tears and snot running from his nose in his despair as he clasped his hands in front of him shaking in a pleading motion. “Please,” he cried, “I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. I never would have hurt Rachel I swear. It won’t happen again I swear it. Please.” The door was now half closed letting the light from the lamp illuminate the room in a pale yellow. I had long since tuned out his pathetic pleads and begging for forgiveness. A part of me was thinking about just scaring him and letting him go. Tell him to disappear and never come around Rachel, or my son, again; but, another part of me wanted revenge, to beat this man within centimeters of his life. Would that make me no better than him? I thought to myself as the light of the street cut to a small sliver of white on the wall.

The door slowly closes on the scene within. Me standing over this kneeling man as he begs for his life that he thinks I will take. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll let him go. Maybe I’ll give him a few things to remember me by. The door slams closed at the last inch and the outside world never sees what happens in that small motel room, and whenever I leave no one will know that anything ever happened. This small room and this red door will keep this secret forever in a motel in Gray Summit, Missouri.

And I will keep this secret too.